FLIRT (Phan)

préface

"Do you really have to wear that in?" Mom asked, motioning to the tube of fuchsia lipstick in my hand.

"What happened to 'trying to be more accepting'?" I asked over my shoulder as I attempted to apply it in the car's vanity mirror.

"We've been over this Dan," she said, exasperated, "I don't care who you date. I don't care if they're boys or girls or whatever. I don't care about the underwear or the tight jeans, to be frank Dan, I don't even mind the lipstick when we're at home, but Dan, don't you think this is a bit much?"

"Not sounding very accepting to me," I said pointedly, wiping a bit of excess lipstick off with my pinky finger. "You don't see me criticizing your makeup choices."

"I am a woman," she said.

"I would really like to know who it was that decided only women could have hot pink lips," I said, snapping the vanity mirror back into the ceiling, "Quite sexist of them I think. Oh, do not roll your eyes at me," I snapped as she shot me an annoyed look. "Do I embarrass you?"

"No, Dan, that's-"

"Jesus Christ my own mother is embarrassed of me," I placed my hand on my chest in mock horror, "Seriously mom, you have nothing to be embarrassed about: we are literally at a Starbucks hundreds of miles from home."

"You're going to college here in three months," she persisted, "I just don't want to give people the wrong impression."

"The only person under the wrong impression here is you if you think I'm taking this off," I retorted. "Now are you coming in or what? I need caffeine." She gave me one last look of disapproval and pity as we got out of the car.

"You know what I want," she said, holding the door open for me, "Can you order while I'm in the bathroom?"

"No problem," I said, joining the line at the counter. After a few minutes of waiting, the boy at the register waved me over.

"Yeah, um, I'm going to need a Java Chip Frap, no whip, and a PSL for my white girl of a mother." I said, leaning on the counter.

"I like your lipstick," the boy at the register said.

"Really?" I asked, blushing. I hadn't noticed until he looked up, but he was gorgeous. He had hair the color of the night sky, piercing blue eyes, and a crooked smile that could have stopped traffic.

"It suits you really well." He sounded genuine. I attempted to conceal my blush with a smile, but failed miserably.

"My mom hates it," I admitted.

"Probably jealous," he joked.

I laughed, "Probably. She says it's because no guys will want to date me if I wear lipstick. I think she's just embarrassed that I pull it off better than she does."

"Is that her there?" he motioned across the room to the bathrooms just as Mom was leaving the women's room.

"Yes," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going to help you out," he bit his lip. I was about to ask what he meant by that, but he silenced me with his gaze and began reading back my order as Mom crossed to where I was standing. "So, I have a Java Chip no whip and a PSL?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, confused, handing him the cash I owed him.

"Great," the boy pulled the receipt out of the register and scribbled something on it before handing it over to me. "You're number 54, it's printed on the front, and my number," he shot me a wink, "is on the back."

"Oh," I bit my lip as I took the receipt, checking the back. Sure enough, there was an entire phone number scrawled in sloppy handwriting. "Thanks," I winked back and he shot me one last charming smile before waving the next customer over to take their order.

"What was that about my lipstick?" I teased, waving the receipt in my mom's face. She just rolled her eyes and slid into a booth near the door.

"I guess I don't know everything," she admitted, "Go figure."

"Big shocker there," I joked.

"Fifty-four?" a voice called from the counter. Mom started to stand, but I motioned for her to sit.

"I got this," I smirked. I went to fetch the drinks and found Cash Register Boy waiting for me. "Thanks," I whispered.

"Anything for you, Princess," he said with a glint in his eye.

"See you around," I grinned.

"I hope so," he smiled and I thought I might melt, but I just returned, face flushed, to our table table with the drinks.

"He's cute," Mom said, taking her coffee from me.

"He is," I agreed

"Maybe he goes to Mansfield," she raised her eyebrows, "That would be nice." I grinned, a little nervous.

"I hope so."